“Gosh, yes!” he said laughing at the familiar picture.  “Mary Lou always says that she has no luck with fires!”

“Billy,” Susan stated solemnly, “sometimes I don’t believe that there is such a thing as luck!”

“Sometimes you don’t—­why, Lord, of course there isn’t!”

“Oh, Billy,” Susan’s eyes widened childishly, “don’t you honestly think so?”

“No, I don’t!” He smiled, with the bashfulness that was always noticeable when he spoke intimately of himself or his own ideas.  “If you get a big enough perspective of things, Sue,” he said, “everybody has the same chance.  You to-day, and I to-morrow, and somebody else the day after that!  Now,” he cautiously lowered his voice, “in this house you’ve heard the Civil War spoken of as ’bad luck’ and Alf’s drinking spoken of as ‘bad luck’”—–­

Susan dimpled, nodded thoughtfully.

“—­And if Phil Carroll hadn’t been whipped and bullied and coaxed and amused and praised for the past six or seven years, and Anna pushed into a job, and Jim and Betsy ruled with an iron hand, you might hear Mrs. Carroll talking about ‘bad luck,’ too!”

“Well, one thing,” said Susan firmly, “we’ll do very differently from now on.”

“You girls, you mean,” he said.

“Jinny and Mary Lou and I. I think we’ll keep this place going, Billy.”

Billy scowled.

“I think you’re making a big mistake, if you do.  There’s no money in it.  The house is heavily mortgaged, half the rooms are empty.”

“We’ll fill the house, then.  It’s the only thing we can do, Billy.  And I’ve got plenty of plans,” said Susan vivaciously.  “I’m going to market myself, every morning.  I’m going to do at least half the cooking.  I’m going to borrow about three hundred dollars—–­”

“I’ll lend you all you want,” he said.

“Well, you’re a darling!  But I don’t mean a gift, I mean at interest,” Susan assured him.  “I’m going to buy china and linen, and raise our rates.  For two years I’m not going out of this house, except on business.  You’ll see!”

He stared at her for so long a time that Susan—­even with Billy!—­ became somewhat embarrassed.

“But it seems a shame to tie you down to an enterprise like this, Sue,” he said finally.

“No,” she said, after a short silence, turning upon him a very bright smile.  “I’ve made a pretty general failure of my own happiness, Bill.  I’ve shown that I’m a pretty weak sort.  You know what I was willing to do—–­”

“Now you’re talking like a damn fool!” growled Billy.

“No, I’m not!  You may be as decent as you please about it, Billy,” said Susan with scarlet cheeks, “but—­a thing like that will keep me from ever marrying, you know!  Well.  So I’m really going to work, right here and now.  Mrs. Carroll says that service is the secret of happiness, I’m going to try it.  Life is pretty short, anyway,—­ doesn’t a time like this make it seem so!—­and I don’t know that it makes very much difference whether one’s happy or not!”